It makes me feel like such a filthy girl when I have to admit to myself that I like it best of all when it’s from behind.
Month: March 2014
cosmo sex tip #669
Standardwhen you grab his shaft, yell “pull the lever kronk”
“When I wake you in a moment, you won’t remember this trance. You won’t remember that I ever hypnotized you… in fact, you’re already starting to forget, letting my words slip away, so easy to focus, follow, listen and obey, forgetting to remember or remembering to forget as I wake you, now. Wake up now, darling, eyes open…”
She inhales deeply, an easy smile gracing her lip as her eyes flutter open, remaining half-lidded and slightly sleepy.
“Melanie looked so beautiful tonight… you’d never believe she’s five months along,” she says, picking up the thread of their earlier conversation as she brings the wine glass to her mouth. He watches her other hand slide across her chest, over her breasts, and then, beneath her, into her skirt to her soft slippery sex. She catches his look and squirms, flushing crimson, and brings her hand back to rest at her side, taking a large swallow of wine.
“Someone’s a little excited, huh?” He asks, chuckling deeply.
“No, I um…” She closes her eyes in embarrassment as her hand again transverses her skin, wandering back down her stomach, sliding into her panties, as if guided by some alien, invisible force. She struggles to resist, but a finger brushes her clit and she whimpers, turning her face away from him. “I can’t seem to stop.”
“No? Why’s that?”
“I, um… oh. I don’t know,” she whines. grinding her hips down into her hand. She whips her hand back, but as soon as it’s free of her pussy, her fingers find their way to her breast, pinching and pulling her stiffened nipple. Heat pools in her stomach and breasts with the realization of her helplessness, and strengthens with his laughter. “Why can’t I stop?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. Why can’t you stop?”
“You must’ve… oh,” hand back under her, stroking her throbbing sex, sliding inside and pushing against the spot that makes her shiver and moan. “You must’ve done something. What did you do?”
“I must’ve, huh? But I haven’t even dropped you tonight, have I?”
“No, I… I don’t know.”
“Oh, darling. It’s just so adorable how easily you slip into trance. Your eager little mind just loves to go deeper for me, doesn’t it?”
“Yes…” she agrees automatically, brow furrowing in concentration as she continues mindlessly pleasuring herself, mind full of nothing but arousal. Impossible to think, impossible to resist touching, teasing, humping her hand on the floor right in front of him, her elegance dismantled into an obscene display of lust and pleasure.
“It feels very good to focus so completely on my voice, doesn’t it, sweetie?”
“Yeah…” Instantly, she feels her waking mind begin to slip away, his cadence and tone lulling her back into that warm, safe and helpless place she knows so well.
“So easy to listen, letting go, wrapped up in my words… but it’s okay, because you’re not being hypnotized right now, are you?”
“No…” She hears her voice from far away, an echo traveling through the tunnel of her blank mind, as she sinks down, so floaty and relaxed, as though her body rests at the bottom of the ocean, gently caressed by the current of his voice. Her breathing slows to a heavy, steady rhythm, punctuated by whimpers and moans as her pleasure and excitement build, fingers still working, faster and harder, pushing her to the edge.
“That’s right. Who controls you, darling?”
“Y-you do.”
“I’ve got your mind wrapped around my little finger, don’t I?”
“Yeah… fuck, yeah.”
“And that makes you so hot, doesn’t it?”
“Mmm… yeah.”
“It makes you want to come for me.”
Before she can process the trigger, before her blank mind realizes what is happening, her body convulses, waves of pleasure wracking her body, breath coming in ragged breaths and ecstatic moans. He watches her shudder and writhe before him, relishing in his complete and utter control.
“Good girl. Relax, sweetie. That’s it. Just relax.” Her limbs immediately slacken, muscles sighing as the tension leaves them, dropping even deeper, totally gone. The aftershocks of her orgasm cause her to whimper and twitch, but she goes still after just a moment.
“Now, when I wake you in a moment, you won’t remember this trance. You won’t remember that I ever hypnotized you… in fact, you’re already starting to forget…”
Pained By Numbers
Hands – You should probably start here. Get those flailing limbs, those feigned protestations, out of the way as soon as you can. Loop the rope around the wrists, figure eight maybe, and then start to run it up the arms. Keep folding back and around, cinching it and twisting it a little tighter. Smile, maybe, when she puts on a pained expression. Any discontent should be replied with a light slap, or a quick spank. Allow yourself half a thought of how pretty she will look, how pretty she does look, how pretty she did look. Marvel at how the change is already manifesting.
Arms – Lattice. Wind up and up like a vine, pulling ever tighter. Make sure not to forget that this pushes her chest out, makes her breasts lie against her in the most beautiful pert way. Perhaps tweak a nipple, she likes that no matter how many times she gasps or cries out. Just look at how they stand up, how she bites her lip the moment after, the utter, complete lack of sincerity in her voice when she complains. Don’t forget the spank, the slap. Force the elbows together with another loop, another turn.
Feet – More flailing limbs, more to tie down and keep still. The arms are just a stub, now, an ungainly mess of rope and flesh behind her, only useful as an uncomfortable pillow for her back. So take her feet out of the equation. Stroke her calf, appreciate the swell of it. Tie them to the bedposts, wrap the rope around it and then pull, let her feel the tug of the rope as it spreads her legs. Do it slowly, take your time. Watch her cunt as it is exposed. Watch her blush as it materialises on her cheeks. Maybe laugh, maybe say something about how wholly beautiful she is when she is nothing but sex and bondage. Watch her blush some more.
Body – You have time. You can draw this out. You can wrap her up so tight, for so long, that she forgets what movement felt like. Bring another length around the rope at her wrists, down between her spread legs, up against her belly. Thread it between those swollen lips, hear her gasp. Draw it tight, then let it slack a little more. Tie it off and watch her squirm.
Mouth – Knot the rope a few times, create a wad of fibre and threading, and shove it between those pretty lips, turn every complaint, plead, desperate attempt at turning this into something that isn’t exactly what both of you want, into nothing but mumbled sounds, soaked in saliva and lust. Let her taste the last time she was trussed up like this, the way she would gush onto the rope like she was trying to dye it the colour of sex.
You – Grin. Like a loon. Like the cat that got the cream, the canary, the mouse, the whatever. Beam like the moon, like you’re moony, loony, a crazed lunatic, a free radical bouncing from cell to cell spreading your disease. Take the vibrator and turn her into a puddle, take the flogger and temper her into steel, take your hand and make her melt or squeal, whichever takes your fancy. Enjoy, sate yourself, consume all you want to consume.
Rinse and repeat.
I’m over the whole concept of the infallible dom. The whole strong man stereotype who is always right and never messes up and is suave every moment of every day. Men who demand that sort of esteem are a little absurd, and a culture that perpetuates that role is harmful to both these people and the people that love them.
Bottom line: I love that he trips. I love that she smirks. And I love that he is sometimes that domineering presence and sometimes, yeah, he’s a guy who hasn’t quite gotten the hang of a punching bag just yet.
So let’s talk about this. A few things have been rattling around in my head ever since Ivy posted her (perceptive and valuable) take.
- Dominance and submission are, to my mind, deeply valuable as ways of being understood.
- You can only understand a human by understanding a human.
- Asking someone to understand you is asking them to see your flaws as well as your gifts. This is scary, and carries risks.
- So dominance and submission are expressions of vulnerability by everyone involved.
“The sub has unstated power over the scene” isn’t exactly groundbreaking kink theory, but it has implications like these that maybe don’t get examined as much. When you top you can get hurt or exhausted, emotionally or physically. You can be pressured into doing things you wouldn’t normally consider, just like a sub. I’ve topped in consensual nonconsent scenes that left me shaking and kind of fucked up afterwards, and I’m fortunate that I had a (submissive!) partner who was really good with aftercare for me. When I asked her to understand me, in a moment when I was fallible, she said yes.
So as fun as it is to write and fantasize about implacable, aloof or flawless Dom-monsters, it’s a little silly—and counterproductive—to try to bring that into real life. Inhabit the character when it suits and leave it behind when it doesn’t. Being vulnerable with the right person is one of the most rewarding things I’ve done in my life, as I think many subs would agree. Opening up your own humility and humanity in a dominant role will pay you back over and over, and I think seeing more representation of that experience would be a really good thing.
Preach, y’all.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart! You must have been terribly bored in there without this vibrator.”
Wrists and ankles locked together. Ecstasy flowing through your veins. Your mind numb, your consciousness floating through subspace.
She’s going to keep doing this to your pussy, you know. Over and over. No more, no less. For the next five hours.
And your will will be drained, your inhibitions crumbled. Will you cum? Maybe…maybe multiple times, over and over, until your mind cannot even comprehend the pleasure anymore…or maybe you won’t, tortured by being on the edge, so close for so long…
It doesn’t matter. Sucked, and released. Over and over and over, until your mind is soft and open and ready for her to mold…
Here’s Saffy in this really nice locking panel gag we got from Mr S Leather in San Francisco. It’s got a little peen that penetrates the mouth, and a lot of padding so when it’s on super tight, it’s pretty effective at muffling any unwelcome noises of protest.
Of course, when it’s really tight that little rubber pecker gets pushed uncomfortably towards the back of the throat, making the victim feel the need to try to push it back out with their tongue. They can only do that for so long before their tongue gets fatigued and it slips back again, back to the other sort of discomfort. And the cycle of in and out continues, they just can’t help but give that little rubber dick a long, hard blowjob…
Forced cocksucking practice is a wicked bonus to an already pretty sweet toy.
Very nice gag!
Hmmmm…. 🙂
I’ve been asked a couple times about the ‘meaning’ of the url of this blog and sometimes it’s easier to explain than others.
Many posts here involve ideas, acts, or behaviours that are fairly accessible, as far as off-the-beaten-path erotic thinking goes, and other posts are, or at least they feel to me, more nebulous.
Sometimes it happens that an idea, act, or behaviour isn’t intrinsically erotic, but is still something one might ask of a partner. This is one of those whyexactly moments. As in: ‘Why, exactly, do I want this of you?’
Why would I ask you, for example, to stand in the corner and not say a word when you’ve been a good girl and done nothing to deserve such treatment? Sure it might be intriguing for a couple minutes, but what happens at the half hour mark? Aren’t I just wasting everyone’s time?
Maybe…
Or maybe activities which are not intrinsically sexual, but which are demanding in their own way, are important building blocks for a D/s dynamic in a relationship.
Maybe asking for something repetitive, strenuous, painful, or dull is not intrinsically sexual until you look at the bigger picture. Then it can be the sexiest thing ever.
See, I know that you know you could, two minutes after being stood in the corner, turn around, take a beer from the fridge, and turn on the tv. And I know that you know at the end of the day I can’t actually make you stand there, quiet and still.
What I think happens when you decide to stand there and ‘do as you’re told’ is that you acknowledge that doing so is good for both of us. It’s our way of working on that aspect of our relationship, of affirming that we indeed want to work on that aspect of our relationship, and not simply indulge in spanky makeouts (which are awesome and equally important.) That’s not a waste of time at all. That’s sexy as fuck.
That’s why, exactly.
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feedback welcomed.